


What Will You Do?

by cowgirl65



Category: Original Work
Genre: Held Down, Kink Negotiation, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirl65/pseuds/cowgirl65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you do to stop the tickling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Will You Do?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

“Don’t! Stop!” I try to catch my breath as he pauses, but the respite is short lived.

Screeching, I struggle to get away, but I’m pinned between his thighs and the only thing my escape attempt does is expose my ribs to further tickling.

“Why should I?” he asks with a lascivious grin.

“Because…” I wheeze breathlessly, but my words are cut off when he finds that one spot and I almost choke due to the wave of hysterics he sets off.

Damn, I hate being tickled. Okay, that’s not really true. It’s not being able to control the shrieks, the way my eyes water and the pounding headache I get when he’s done that I hate. But I love how he makes me writhe beneath his body, so sexual without actually being sex, I love how I’m completely at his mercy and that’s why I’d never ask him not to. That, and the thrill from not knowing what I’ll be asked to agree to in exchange for him stopping.

He takes pity on me and backs off again, but his fingertips are still running lightly across my ribs and I can’t help flinching. “Because what?” He reaches behind and brushes over that sensitive spot where my thighs meet my groin and this time I squirm to get away from those terrible, wonderful fingers. “What’ll you do if I stop?”

I’m still gasping for air as I ask, “What do you want?”

“Hmm.” He gets a thoughtful expression, but that wicked gleam returns to his eyes almost immediately. “I’ll need some time to think.”

He attacks again, mercilessly tickling my armpits and ribs. “No,” I yelp, but there’s no power behind the word.

“Will you suck my cock and let me fuck your throat?”

“Yes.” The word is barely a squeak.

He still doesn’t stop. “Can I sit on your face and fuck it ‘til you can’t breathe?

Gasping, I try to nod, but I’m not sure whether he sees that or not through my struggles to get away from those magnificent, horrible fingers.

“Will you lick my ass and let me cum all over you?”

“Anything,” I manage to force out before I erupt in more uncontrollable laughter as he changes the angle of attack. “Please, just stop!”

Suddenly, it ends. He sits back and innocently rests his hands on his thighs. I lie there, gasping, trying to control myself, but small fits of laughter still escape. His grin is that of a predatory but satisfied cat and if I close my eyes, I swear I can hear him purr.

Soft kisses taste the tears on my cheeks. “You’re so damn gorgeous, writhing and laughing like that.”

I open my eyes. The predatory expression has changed to one of contentment and I know again why I let him do this to me, headache or no headache.

Then that gleam comes to his eyes again. “So which will it be first? Suck my cock or lick my ass?”

Damn, I love him.


End file.
